Take A Bow
by respektor
Summary: Bella, the violin prodigy of Forks, is forced to play a duet with Edward for the steadily approaching talent show. They didn't hit it off so well when they first met, and sparks are bound to fly. But can they do more than make beautiful music? ALL HUMAN
1. Damage Control

I remember quite vividly the first time I became acquainted with the Cullens

I remember quite vividly the first time I became acquainted with the Cullens. It was my first day of sophomore year, and their first year in Forks. The first day of school. I've always thought it has an ominous sound to it, that phrase.

Charlie and Renee had, as an early birthday present, bought me a truck. A horrendous hunk of metal, but one that I loved dearly. I was so proud of it, and anxious to drive it to school.

When I found a parking spot and had parked, I hopped out of my car, laden with books, my bag, my lunch, and, of course, my two left feet. I was looking forward and didn't quite see where I was going. There was a rather large stone median in my way, and I tripped over it, falling on top of a shiny, sparkling Volvo. It wouldn't have been such a big deal. Except that the owners of the car were still inside it. And, of course, that I was holding the keys to my truck in my hand.

It happened in slow motion, really. As soon as I started my downward descent, I locked eyes with the driver of the car. His mouth opened, slowly, in agony. I noticed, rather dazedly, that he was gorgeous. And I was mutilating his car.

When I fell on the car, the alarm went off. There was an accompanying screech of metal. I gasped in horror. The whole parking lot stopped, looked over to the honking car, registered that _I_ had fallen, and resumed their business. In the meantime, the passengers of the car piled out.

A group of four of them held back, near the backseat door, and sniggered quietly. The driver, the most beautiful, rushed over to me. He quickly looked me over, and sensing no apparent injuries, turned his attention to his car.

His mouth opened in unadulterated shock. "My car…" He breathed. "God in Heaven…" He looked lost, like something near and dear to his heart had died. It was only a scratch, right? I looked at the offending scratch. Right, just a scratch.

He turned to me. "You…you scratched my car." I was horrified. (And beet red, I'm sure.)

"I'm so sorry," I rushed. "It was a complete accident; I can pay to have it fixed." He turned and stomped to the car, wrenched open the door and turned off the alarm which had been screeching the whole time.

He walked back to barely a foot away and fumed. I stood there, appalled, not knowing quite what to do. He buried his head in his hands and his voice came out muffled.

"Paying won't be necessary. I hope you're alright." And he walked away.

A passenger of the car in question danced over to me. "I could always paint over it with some nail polish, Edward!" We looked at his retreating back, and he made no sign he had heard her. She snickered and extended her hand. "I'm Alice." She pointed over her shoulder. "Jasper and Rosalie Hale, Emmett Cullen. That boor," she rolled her eyes dramatically, "was Edward."

I could still feel myself blushing as the family looked on at me. "I'm Bella. Bella Swan," I said, "If there is _anything _I can do, please, please tell me. I don't want him to hate me."

Alice grabbed my arm and we trailed behind the others, walking to the school.

"He's only taking it so hard because he has no human attachments. That car is his soul mate," she tinkled, and I blushed again.

I had damaged his one true love.

Things between Edward and I hadn't been so hot after that. He talked to me pleasantly, and I was on good terms with the rest of his family, but…sparks still flew. Like that one time in gym…er, but we won't delve into _that_ just yet.

That's why, when I got the news that I was to play a duet with _Edward Cullen_, I was more than a little horrified.

AN: This will be a fun story. I think so, anyway. Tell me what you think!


	2. Fight Like A Brave

AN: I just got back from a violin lesson, and was kind of hyped to write. And I had reviews, which totally made my day! Thanks guys, you rock!

Flyers about the upcoming talent show were plastered across the wall all over the school. Everyone's lips were buzzing with the juvenile little thing, and it was, quite frankly, extremely irritating. Everyone seemed to jump at the chance to get up _on a stage_ in front of _the whole school_ and publicly humiliate themselves.

And I was to be a part of this inane, childish, ridiculous thing. Along with Edward Cullen. Unless, of course, one of us died in the process of rehearsing. I would not be too surprised, actually, if that were to happen. From what I can tell, we don't have much in common.

It was in Spanish that I found out that I was to take part in this horrifying experience. Apparently, Senora Vazquez had bullied Edward into playing the piano, and would 'be simply _delighted_' if I would play a duet with him. She said that a 'good, accomplished and mature violinist would complement his distinguished sound' and we were 'two charming individuals'.

I find it incumbent upon myself to point out that I am the _only_ person in Forks who plays the violin, and in my humble opinion, I don't play all that well. I _had_ a violin teacher once…but she left Forks when she had the chance, so I've just sort of been teaching myself.

The Senora asked me to stay after school, so that Edward and I could talk about which piece to play and fine tune the logistics of everything.

I was sitting slumped in a desk with my face smushed all in my hand, looking very attractive, I'm sure, when Edward walked in, in all his god-like glory. He didn't sit, and he glowered at me. I tried my hardest to glower back, but I'm not entirely sure I succeeded.

"Please, Edward," Vazquez gestured, "won't you sit down?" Edward glared once more at me before turning to the teacher.

"I'd rather stand, thanks." She started back.

"Oh, right. Well," she sat on the edge of her desk, like she did before she went off on some long spiel about something or other. She leaned her head back and studied the ceiling, no doubt thinking she looked poetic or something. "I was thinking…something beautiful, something romantic to wake the soul of each Forkian out there. Something…something…passionate. What were you thinking of doing?"

"Liszt," Edward said immediately.

We both looked at him: she because she probably had no idea who he was, but I because that was so self centered it wasn't even funny.

"Liszt?" I asked incredulously, "And where, pray tell, does violin fit into playing Liszt for God's sake?"

He looked at me in surprise, but before he could respond I turned to Senora Vazquez. "Tchaikovsky."

She frowned. "Schubert," Edward said.

"Korsakoff," I yelled, my temper rising.

"NO!" We looked in surprise to Senora Vazquez, who was a tad red in the face. "Vivaldi."

I looked at Edward and we both groaned. Well, not groaned, so much as made little faces of disgust.

The Senora's nostrils flared. "Have either of you something against Vivaldi?"

Edward paused, but I spoke first. "Not something _against_ him, per se, its just…you said you wanted something passionate, and-"

She stood, towering above us, well, just me, because I was the only one sitting. "You _will_ play a Vivaldi piece, and it will be _flawless_. You may leave now. I will contact you about rehearsals during class."

I got my bag and scurried out of the room. I was about halfway down the hall when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Edward. He blew his hair out of his eyes.

"Do you know what you want to play?" I did actually. I had first played it when I was about…ten, but had recently perfected it.

"The A Minor concerto." To my surprise he grinned.

"What a coincidence. That was what I was going to suggest we play." I turned and scoffed.

"Suggest. More like demand." I could hear his footsteps as he ran to catch up with me again.

"Can we just leave that behind, and decide when to practice?" I sighed, perfectly willing to leave that heated little argument from the Spanish classroom well behind.

"Sure. My house or yours?"

He looked over at me and raised a bronze brow. "Do you have a piano at your house?"

"Oh." I blushed. "I didn't think of that. Your house it is then. What days?"

We were in the parking lot, and our cars were two of the few left. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could have sworn that as we neared his car he almost imperceptibly pushed himself between me and his car.

"Um…" He looked at a point past my ear, "we have two weeks until the show. What are you doing today?"

I thought and could absolutely not remember. "Uh-Oh!" I looked in my bag, flipping through the worksheets and books I brought. 

"Um, I have Spanish, that thing on modals; English, oh, no, I just brought the book home to look through it; I have to study for the badminton test…er, that shouldn't take too long…um. Oh. That's it," I said, looking up brightly.

"Well," he sighed heavily, "if you're _quite_ sure that's it, then, could you come over today?"

I blanked again. Note to self: if you would like to remain coherent, remember to not look Edward in the eyes.

"Uh-" I said again, "sure. I have to go get my violin from home, though, and I'll need directions."

He nodded and pulled out a piece of paper. "I'll draw a map." I stood next to him for the next five minutes while he struggled to draw a map that would successfully lead me to his house.

He finally handed it to me, and I couldn't help the small giggle that escaped. I looked up at him under my lashes. He glared down at me.

"What do you find so funny?"

I giggled again, not able to hold it in. "Well, you see, its just…this is such a _bad_ map. It's not drawn proportionately at all, and-"

I caught his glare again. "Oh, whatever, I'll find it." My mood suddenly turned sour. I got in my car, slammed the door, and drove away, leaving Edward and his stupid, minuscule-ly scratched Volvo.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, except some worn and battered sheet music.**


	3. The Sound Of Failure

I slammed the door and threw my backpack on the floor, my English literature book making quite a loud noise as it hid the hard-wood flooring.

"You're home, Bella!" My mother called in her annoying cheery voice.

"Obviously," I muttered, not feeling in the mood for touchy feely mother daughter time.

She walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. "Now, Bella, don't get all moody with me. Rough day?"

I slunk up the stairs. "You have no idea."

When I came back down stairs I headed to the kitchen and towards the intoxicating aroma emanating from it. I was also slightly wary, knowing my mother could be…inventive when it came to cooking.

"What is it?" I asked.

My mother spun around, something from a spatula spraying the ground.

"Hungarian Potato Bread. It won't be done for another hour or so, though." She caught sight of my violin case in hand. She gasped.

"Bella? Practicing? Are you feeling alright?" She mocked. I was in no mood for jokes.

"Somehow," I spat, "I got roped into doing the stupid _talent show_ with _Edward Cullen_. I have to go practice with him. I'll be back for dinner."

She chuckled and nudged me in the ribs. "Edward Cullen, huh?" She chuckled again. Furious, I spun on my heel and walked to the door. "Isn't he the attractive one?" She yelled to me.

I slammed the door shut in response.

I didn't have as hard of a time interpreting Edward's directions as I thought I would. You see, the mailbox on the road proclaiming "CULLEN" was kind of a dead giveaway. Once I turned onto the drive, I began to have second doubts. This drive went on forever. When I was just getting prepared to turn around, I saw a gorgeous white house. My house would have fit in its detached garage. What else could one expect?

As I got out of the truck, I heard the most gloriously harsh sound…someone was playing Rachmaninov. I skipped to the front door and knocked twice. It was opened by Alice, and she smiled when she saw me. The playing became louder and more frenzied.

"Our little Beethoven's in the other room," Alice said, voice slightly raised over the piano. "I believe he's feeling pubescent and angsty. Whatever did you do to him, Bella?" She giggled as she led me to what I assumed was the living room. It was more of a large, open space at the foot of a large staircase.

Edward was sitting at the piano with the sleeves of his black sweater rolled up to the elbows, pounding at the keys furiously, his eyes closed and his hair dancing with the bobbing of his head.

I couldn't deny that it was beautiful. The piece made me want to…I didn't even know what the feeling was. It made me want to play, I know that, but there was something else…

He stopped suddenly, and as if sensing my presence turned on the bench to face me.

"That was wonderful."

He nodded curtly. "Thank you."

"Rachmaninov? I thought it was supposed to be impossible."

"You know Rachmaninov?" He asked, surprise evident on his face.

I blushed. " 'Dead Again'. I was kind of on an Emma Thompson frenzy." He laughed. It was so unexpected; it caught me off guard. It was the most beautiful sound, and I aimed to make him laugh again and again.

"Er…well, do you have a stand, by chance?" I asked. Predictably, I had forgotten mine.

He nodded and stood. "One second. I'll be right back. Oh-" As he got up Alice had come down holding a black stand in her hand.

"This what you needed?" She asked. I ran to get it from her.

"Its perfect, thanks."

I pulled it up to an appropriate height, tuned my violin, and looked at Edward. He pulled out his music and sat down on the bench once more, stretching his fingers out.

We started, then, and it was mad. It wasn't a particularly hard song for the violin. Well, not in the beginning anyway; it became faster and faster and the bowings became more complex later on, but still nothing too impossible.

Things went wonderfully, for about the first page and a half. And then Edward stopped. I stopped too, confused. He looked at me accusingly.

"You played the wrong note."

I could feel myself flush in anger. "Where?"

"Uh-" he referenced the music. "Four before rehearsal 5."

I looked at the measure in question. I checked the key signature, to be sure, and looked over the measure once more. "No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

I was getting upset now. I _hate_ when non-violinists tell me what I'm doing wrong. "I did _not_. It is a G#. You are playing a B, a C, and an E. It will obviously sound slightly…dissonant."

I saw his jaw clench. Man. And I had thought things were going so well. I guess while we were playing and not speaking they _were_.

"Okay. Bella. From rehearsal five." We started again, and the same feeling stole over me. It was easy to forget his…temperamental attitude while we were playing…actually, it was easy to focus on his slim back and how the muscles in his arm moved while he was playing…

"Oh, God." Edward said. "What was _that_?"

I stopped, clenching my free fist. "What, pray tell, have I done now to infuriate you?"

He consulted the score. "The first note of rehearsal 15. What was that?"

I was nearly shaking. "It's _called_ a _harmonic,_ so there is no way in _hell_ that I am out of tune." I extended my fourth finger, reaching the note and playing it over and over. "And," don't do it, Bella, I told myself, don't let him get to you, "I don't see how a _pianist_ could _possibly_ know anything about the violin that I don't. Do you want to play it? Go ahead! I'd love to see you try!" It was scientifically proven that the violin is the hardest instrument in the world to play.

I don't know why it bothers me so much, when he criticizes me. It just…irks me, to no end. Ah, my favorite phrase: It sets my flesh on tenterhooks. That's exactly how I feel. It makes me want to smash his glossy piano and rip his hair out.

"That was _beautiful_," I heard. A woman with graying, caramel colored hair stood in the doorway, with two bags of groceries in her hands. She set the bags down. "There are more in the car, Edward." He got up swiftly and strode out the door.

"I'm Esme, Edward's mother." She extended her hand, which I readily shook.

"Bella Swan." A light came into her eyes.

"Oh, so _you're _Bella Swan. I should have known." She smiled. "I've heard an awful lot about you." I assume she means the car incidence. A blush rose unbidden to my face. I grabbed a bag of groceries and followed her to the kitchen. Edward reappeared, setting the bags down by the refrigerator.

We turned to walk out of the room, but were called back by Esme. "Oh, Bella, dear, you're welcome to stay for dinner."

I stole a sideways glance at Edward's impassive face. "Thanks," I said, "but I promised my mother I'd be home."

We headed back to the piano and I picked up my violin. "From the beginning?" He nodded and we began. The magic stole over us once more and I got lost in the playing.

We finished, the last fermata ringing through the air. I looked up and he smiled. His smile was beautiful, almost as good as his laugh.

"Tomorrow?" He asked.

I nodded. "That would be fine."

I zipped up my case and picked it up. Unfortunately, but not unexpectedly, the music compartment was open. "Shoot," I cursed as music rained down on the floor. I picked it up and zipped up the compartment.

I stood and saw Edward looking at my music. "The Flight of the Bumble Bee?" He asked incredulously.

I snatched it out of his hands. "I would appreciate it if you wouldn't make fun of my music. It happens to be a famous Korsakov piece."

"May I?" He gestured to it. I handed it over reluctantly.

"This is…spectacular." He breathed. "You can play this?"

"No, I just carry it around with me." He looked confused and I scoffed. "Of course I can play it." He handed it back to me and I headed to the door. He beat me there and opened it.

"Goodbye, Bella. I will see you tomorrow."

I turned and saw him leaning on the doorframe.

"Bye, Edward."

AN: I wasn't going to post this until tomorrow, but then I saw all of my beautiful reviews! You guys are awesome!

Pieces in this chapter:

Piano Concerto 3 by Rachmaninov

Concerto in a Minor, opus III by Vivaldi

Flight of the Bumble Bee, an AWE INSPIRING SONG by Korsakov, it's especially amazing when performed by Perlman (piano violin duet…eh, eh, nudge, nudge)


	4. Hyper Music

I opened the door more gently this time, being in a much better, albeit more confused, mood. "I'm back," I called, making my way to the kitchen. My father and mother were in the kitchen, Charlie reading the newspaper and my mother busying herself in front of the stove.

"What are you making?" Renee looked up, seeming surprised that I was even there.

"Hungarian goulash." She turned back around, stirring something in a stainless steel pot. "How was your practice?"

I tensed. "Oh, um…fine." Charlie put down his newspaper.

"What's his family like?" Typical Charlie.

"They're nice. I know his siblings from school, but I met his mom. She's nice."

My mother looked up. "Esme? I saw her at the grocery store today. I went just after you left. See, I needed Hungarian paprika, and I got Spanish…"

I just nodded absently. Right. "I'll be upstairs."

I flopped on my bed and pulled out my gym study guide. I tried to understand, really, I did. But badminton is the most worthless game ever invented. Worse than golf, even.

"You shall serve from, and receive in, the **right service court** when you or your opponent has scored an **even number** of points in that game. You shall serve from, and receive in, the **left service court** when you or your opponent has scored an **odd number** of points in that game."

What the heck? That makes no sense. Why does it even matter?

"If the score becomes 14-all (10-all in women's singles), the side which first scored 14 (10) shall exercise the choice to continue the game to 15 (11) points or to 'set' the game to 17 (13) points."

What? What is 'all'? I groaned and rolled over, flinging the stupid study guide at my wall. I should probably do my Spanish modal worksheet…but I just wasn't in the mood. After dinner, I told myself. Now, I wanted to think.

What in the world was wrong with Edward? One minute he was yelling that my harmonic was out of tune (ridiculous) the next he was smiling and happy. Was he bipolar? Borderline? He obviously needed medication of some sort.

I was trying to understand. I mean, we _talked_ a bit during school the last two years, but it was mainly to the extent of:

"_I would appreciate it if you would not walk next to my car."_

"_Screw you."_

And

"_Alice wants to talk to you."_

"_Oh. Right, then."_

But, in the subject of civil conversation we were very much limited. Ridiculously so, in fact. I promised myself, as I lay in bed, that I would make a conscious effort to be kind the next day.

EPOV

I am not quite sure what came over me when Bella was here. So, I know her E was in tune, but I am still not positive about the G#. It must have been wrong, because it sounded much better when we played it through the second time. Actually, the piece sounded flawless. It was Vivaldi, after all. I just hadn't expected her to be so touchy about it.

There wasn't really any need to practice…ever again, but I found myself _wanting_ to rehearse with Bella. It was more than faintly amusing when she got upset. I don't know if she realized it, but she even stomped her foot like a child.

Speaking of which…I closed the key cover over my piano and ran up the stairs two at a time. I went into my room and pulled up Google on my computer. Hmm…where to begin. I typed in 'Flight of the Bumble-Bee piano sheet music". In less than a second, hundreds of results popped up. I clicked on the first one.

It wasn't free, but there was a little "look inside" button. I clicked it and looked at the sheet music for the piece. I gasped…audibly. This was ridiculous. I scrolled down to look at users comments. One guy said "I've been playing the piano for 9 years and could only master the first 20 bars". Well, no joke.

I went back to Google and finally found a printable PDF format. You see, there are no music stores in Forks, so it was either downloading or waiting a week for it come by mail. I chose downloading.

I tapped my fingers impatiently waiting for the papers to print. I took them and ran downstairs, quickly re-opening my piano cover. I took a deep breath, and began.

This was going to be a long night.

AN: Woo! Have I mentioned that I love my reviewers? Well, in case not, I DO! And, I also love Vivaldi…listening to it and playing it…just not in an orchestra setting. Its amazing how one (or three) fascist conductors can ruin pieces. Ah, well. Oh yes, I own nothing.

Anyone in orchestra or who plays an instrument…what is your favorite piece to play? Mine might have to be…Marche Slave by Tchaikovsky. Its super duper fun.


	5. Friendship Test

The first half of the day passed in a blur. I managed to do my Spanish homework during English, so that wasn't really a big deal. Before I knew it, it was time for lunch.

I hated lunch. Food was so overrated. Did we really need 45 minutes to eat? I walked in, carrying my biology binder and book, as well as my gym study guide. I sat down at the usual table. I sat with Mike, Jessica, Lauren, Angela and crowd. I put my stuff down, designating my usual spot, between Jessica and Angela, and went to buy a banana and a water.

After buying my lunch I went to sit down again, and pretended to bury my nose in my study guide, to discourage anyone from talking to me. I did, however, manage to pick up that the rest of the table was talking about the talent show. Apparently, Jessica and Mike were emceeing. I couldn't resist a snort when they said that Eric was supposedly going to demonstrate his fire-eating skills. Right, I'd believe that when it happened.

I'm pretty sure a grease fire would start.

I try to be social. I really do, its just that life is such a disappointment after reading so many wonderful books. I would never have my Darcy, nor my Romeo, I would just be Bella, the anti-social freak.

I sighed, and barely a minute before the bell rang I got up and walked to biology, followed by the chatter of students leaving the lunchroom. I walked in and put my stuff down at my lab table, joined a moment later by Ben, my lab partner.

"Hey, Bella," he said, putting his stuff down quietly.

"Hey, Ben, how's it going?" He pulled back his seat and sat.

"Oh, you know…" he drifted off. That was exactly how I felt.

The rest of the class filed in, followed by Mr. Varner. The bell rang and he clapped his hands once, making his way to the front of the room.

"What day is it today, class?" He asked.

"Movie day!" A few people shouted. He frowned, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

"No. It is time to switch lab partners." I looked at Ben. He wasn't a bad partner. As long as I didn't get Mike I would be fine.

"Listen for your name, everyone." He started down the list, and I knew what he was doing. The last person of the alphabet was with the first, second to last with second, and so on.

"Weber, Adamson, table 1; Thompson, Barnett, table 2; Swan, Cullen, table 3; Peabody…" I stopped listening. I lied. As long as I didn't get Mike _or_ Edward, I would have been fine. But fate was conspiring against me in every aspect of my life, it seemed.

I huffed and picked up my books, my chair making a metallic screeching noise when I pulled it back and sat down.

"Hello, Bella," Edward said, looking amused, "last minute badminton studying?"

"Yes." I said, "I do not understand the sport at all. If you can call it a sport." He grinned, and my breath hitched.

"It's not really that complicated." He leaned closer conspiratorially. "The answers to the matching portion go in alphabetical order."

I sat back, inwardly thankful. "I'm glad to hear you have such faith in my intellect." He scoffed.

"Come on, Bella, even you would have been able to figure that out." My mouth opened in shock.

"Thank you for that. It's a complete self esteem booster."

"Oh, you know what I meant. I mean, gym isn't really your area of expertise, now, is it?"

I glared icily at him. "I know what you meant, thank you."

He sighed and sat back in his chair, looking straight ahead. "I was only trying to help."

I remembered, belatedly, my promise from last night. Kind, Bella. "Well. Thank you."

He looked at me and smiled. "You are _very_ welcome."

Nothing was said for the rest of the lesson, which was a dull lecture on the humoral response. When the bell rang we both stood and walked to the door. He smirked crookedly and my heart stopped. "I'll see you after school, Bella." He walked away before I could respond.

I shook my head and made my way to the gym. We didn't have to change, as the only thing we were doing was taking this stupid test. I sat down on the bleachers and pulled out a pencil. Coach Clapp handed out the tests.

I had no idea what any of the answers were. What if Edward was lying? _Why would he do that? _ The voice in my head reasoned. Oh, whatever. I knew that there was no way that I would get the right answers by myself, so I decided to take a chance. ABCDEFGHIJKL. I sighed. There goes my gym grade.

I hopped up and took my test to Coach Clapp. He looked at it, and then looked up in surprise. "Swan?" He studied my face for a second. "Who are you sitting by?" I reddened furiously. He thought I was cheating. I mean, technically I was, but I couldn't really have _helped_ it that Edward told me.

"Mike Newton." I said.

"Oh." He said. "In that case…go sit back down. It's fine." I laughed to myself. I wasn't the only one who thought Mike was kind of dim-witted.

I resumed my place on the bleachers, where people were scribbling furiously and erasing. I felt bad…but only for a second. I didn't have any homework (I thought junior year was supposed to be hardest?) so I pulled a book out of my bag. _Le Morte d'Arthur._ Hmm, it looked interesting.

I was so into the book that I wasn't paying attention when the bell rang, and I jumped about a mile. I collected my things and walked out of the building to my beautiful car, pulling on my jacket and scarf in the process. I had been on top of things this morning, and I remembered to pack my case in the cab of my truck. It would be easier to find his house today. I was right.

Even though I had been one of the first to leave the parking lot, there was a sparkling Volvo in the driveway of his house. He must drive like a maniac.

I tightened my scarf and jumped out of the truck with my case. I raised my hand to knock, but the door was opened by Emmett.

"Hey, Emmett," I said, walking in the door.

"Hey, Bella. Destroy any innocent cars today?" I blushed and smacked him on the arm, though I'm not completely sure he felt it.

"Sorry, didn't see Rosalie's BMW today. I reserve that for your family's cars only."

He laughed, and I could have sworn that Edward blanched from his perch on the couch. Alice waltzed down the stairs, Jasper in tow. "Hi, Bella."

"Hey, Alice, Jasper." He nodded and followed Alice to the kitchen.

Edward got up and walked towards me. "Are you hungry?"

I unzipped my case and tightened my bow. "Uh…not really, but thanks. Are you?"

"Not especially." He sat down at the piano, and started playing softly while I tuned.

I was in the midst of tuning my temperamental E string, when there was a hideous and terrifying popping and snapping sound. I screamed and pulled my violin away from my face.

"Shoot!" Edward walked over to where I was standing.

"What just happened?" I glared at my violin.

"The string just snapped. The cold weather makes them brittle…and I haven't changed them in…" I thought for a moment. "…quite a while." I dug through my case. "I think I have an extra, hold on."

"Ah-ha. My search is victorious." I help up a new string and started threading it through the peg. In a few seconds it was done, no snapping this time.

"Right." I looked at him. "Ready?" He nodded and we started. It was only a second before we stopped, though I initiated it this time. He looked at me expectantly.

"Can we go faster?" I asked.

"I thought you would never ask." He smirked. We were over in about eight minutes, and I sighed, yawning.

"That is without a doubt the most boring song I've ever played."

He laughed and stood. "You think that's boring? Try playing Bill Evans on the piano."

"Bill Evans isn't boring."

"You like jazz?" He looked surprised.

I rolled my eyes. "I like anything with a beat…that isn't rap…or pop…or screaming unintelligently into a microphone."

"I know what you mean…" He looked at me, long enough for me to grow uncomfortable under his gaze. "Do you want to see something?"

"Sure," I nodded, and put my violin in its case. After I was done he grabbed my arm.

"Follow me." I was led up the stairs and to a landing, where we went into a room to the left of the stairs. I gasped and he turned to me and grinned.

"This is your _room_?" He nodded, and I thought dismally of my little room at home. One whole wall was a window, and the sun was setting already…it is winter, after all. But that isn't what really caught my attention. What did was the wall covered with music: cassettes, CDs, Vinyls, LPs, every thing imaginable.

I ran to the wall and just ran my hands over everything. There was _everything_, just in jazz alone: big band, scat, free jazz, avant-garde, contemporary, fusion, swing…oh _Lord_.

"This is amazing." I was scared to touch, in case it was all a dream and everything vanished. He leaned back on a sofa.

"You like it? I've been collecting for years. You're welcome to-" But he was interrupted by a loud squeal…coming from me.

"Josephine Baker! AH! I've been looking for this everywhere, you…no way," I breathed, "you have a records!"

He laughed and stood up. "Do you want to put one on?" I nodded dumbly.

He put it on, and I went to sit on the sofa. "How do you choose what to put on your iPod?"

He sighed. "I don't really listen to my iPod." He was still fiddling with the record player.

"Why not?" If I had one, I would listen to it all day, every day.

He stood, arms clasped behind his back, his face perfectly stoic. "I do not relish having invasive, alien objects in my ears."

At first I had no response. Then I snorted. Then a small little giggle escaped, and then, the next thing I knew, I was doubled over in laughter.

"The way-" I gasped, "invasive-haha," I couldn't even form a sentence, and I was about to pass out from a lack of oxygen. It was one of those things that happen to me all the time. Thinking back on it, it wasn't even that funny, just coming from Edward, and how perfectly serious he was when he said it…it made me laugh hysterically.

He chuckled, and I hiccupped, gasping for air. "Gosh." I exhaled slowly.

"Oh!" His face lit up, "Come down stairs, I want to show you something."

We virtually flew down the stairs, and he took a seat at his piano. He rolled up his sleeves, shook his head to clear his hair out of his eyes, and started playing.

It was breathtaking. His fingers flew over the keys. It was all a blur, I couldn't even see them moving. He hunched over as he played, his face just above the keys, and his eyes closed.

He finished quickly, it was a short song, after all, and I was afraid for a moment that I would start to cry.

"That was amazing," I said, "Its so much different, seeing it live."

"Ah," he said, "I made a lot of mistakes."

"Ha," I said, "none that I noticed."

He smiled ruefully. "Maybe you're just polite enough to not point them out." There was an awkward silence as we both thought about the other day.

He smiled up at me. "You want to try it with me?"

I nodded vigorously, bouncing in anticipation. I pulled out my violin. I had the song memorized; God knows I've played it enough. He looked at me, waiting for the cue. I nodded my head, and breathed deeply threw my nose. Then we were off.

It was exhilarating, and I'm fairly sure I missed about two measures worth of notes, but I didn't care. It was wonderful, we pressed on, faster, and all too soon it was over. (It _is_ only about a minute and a half.)

We finished and our eyes met. There was cheering in the room, and I realized that Rosalie, Emmett, Alice, Jasper, and Esme were all in the doorway between the kitchen and the foyer.

Esme actually _did_ wipe tears from her eyes. "That was absolutely _gorgeous_." She smiled a watery smile. "It seems to defy human nature that anyone can play that fast." I blushed happily.

"Well, I've been practicing this piece for a year, now. I should _hope_ it sounds good."

"It's more than good, Bella, you know that." Edward said softly.

I blushed and cursed how readily my emotions displayed themselves. Suddenly, the grandfather clock at the foot of the stairs chimed six o'clock.

"Holy crow! What have we been doing? It's six!"

Alice twirled through the room. "Making beautiful music," She chirped. She giggled, and Edward glared at her.

"I've got to go," I said, "I have to help my mom make dinner."

I pulled my scarf around my neck and shrugged into my jacket. He opened the front door for me. "Tomorrow?"

"I can't tomorrow, Edward, I have to do that English paper." He raised his eyebrows.

"The one that was assigned a few weeks ago?" I stuck out my tongue childishly.

"What can I say? I'm a seasoned procrastinator." He smiled crookedly.

"I'll see you in Biology."

I smiled, feeling I completed my goal from the previous night. "Bye, Edward."

The door shut, and I drove home, my mind whirling with thoughts.

AN: I realized that I forgot to mention the piece they were playing…it was Flight of the Bumble Bee. Sorry about that.

AN: DOES ANYONE ELSE HATE TUNING E STRINGS? Mine snapped and scared the shit out of me. Anyway, yet another (longer) chapter. I've decided that since I have no life, I'll make an iMix of every song they play, or that is mentioned in here. I'll tell you in an AN when I finally get it made and posted. Until then, read, review and enjoy.

Love,  
Your Caring Authoress

**Disclaimer: I own a few Vivaldi concertos of my own, a beautiful but battered violin, and a heap of rosin. I do not, however, own the rights to Twilight.**


	6. Just Like Heaven

AN: I went to the library tonight, and I'm afraid I went kind of overboard on CDs. Let's see, I have two Horowitz, orchestral dances of Brahms, Dvorak, Grieg, Mozart and Strauss, Russian Nights (squeal!), Debussy, and the classic Mozart.

I walked in to my house, unconsciously comparing it to the Cullen house, which was a veritable mansion more than a house. "Hello? Mom?" I called. The house was silent.

I sauntered into the kitchen, feeling incredibly tired. There was a note taped to the microwave.

Bella,

I'm at yoga now, isn't that cool? Mrs. Stanley wanted to start a class, so I decided I'd give it a shot. Anyway, I'll probably be home by 7:30 or so, make something inventive for dinner, huh?

Love,

Renee

I got a mental image of my mother in spandex, and tried not to shudder. The first thing I did was go through the house, lighting all the lamps. I hate being alone in a dark house. Then I went to the stereo. See, the foundation of my parents' being is in the living room. Charlie has his TV, my mom has her stereo.

I needed something either impossibly upbeat, or something despairingly mournful. I flipped through my moms CDs.

Ahaha, perfect! Something that was depressing at times, and happy at others! The Cure! I put on a CD and pranced into the kitchen. Something inventive, I repeated in my head.

To my mother, something inventive was something exotic, like…Chicken Tikka Masala. To me, something inventive was using our ready to expire cheese and luncheon meat…and the olives that were on the eve of molding. I suppose sandwiches are fine, if not particularly inventive…

I pulled out a cutting board and a sharp knife, pulling two jars of olives out of the fridge. The smell of olives had always confused me. It wasn't at _all_ what one would expect. It was almost suffocating…

I poured out some olives and set to slicing them, only nicking my fingers a few times. I put them in a bowl and covered it with plastic wrap, placing it back in the fridge.

_"Why are you so far away?" she said  
"Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you?  
That I'm in love with you?"_

I frowned at myself. What a great song to start paying attention to the lyrics. Besides, it's not like that with Edward. He's a pompous, auto loving god. I mean…guy.

Even though he did kind of apologize for his behavior yesterday. And he was quite civil today. And he likes Josephine Baker. I sighed deeply, wiping off the cutting board. I just didn't know him well enough.

_You  
Lost and lonely  
You  
Strange as angels_

That was me. Lost and lonely. What was there in this life that appealed to me? I stared out the window at the encroaching forest. Nothing…not in Forks, anyway. I didn't really have any _friends._ Not any real ones, anyway. I reasoned with myself that as soon as I got out of Forks, I would make a conscious effort to be happier.

I made my way to the sofa and pulled an afghan over me. I pulled my backpack onto my lap and started leafing through it, looking for the essay I was supposed to be writing. I didn't even know what the question was…

I found it, finally, and looked it over.

"Discuss the presence of decay and decaying things in "The House of the Seven Gables". What does decay symbolize in the story?"

How morbid, but thankfully a relatively simple topic. The essay took about a half an hour, and by the time I finished, both of my parents had come home. The thoughts in my head (decay, Edward, the talent show) remained firmly planted. Through dinner ("Wow, Bells, great sandwiches." "Thanks, Dad. I sure can slice olives, huh?") during my shower, during my modal verb worksheet, and as I fell asleep, a certain green-eyed pianist invaded my thoughts.

And I'm not entirely sure that it's a bad thing.

_Strange as angels  
Dancing in the deepest oceans  
Twisting in the water  
You're just like a dream..._

AN: So its kind of short, but hey, I'm tired. Maybe tonight, definitely tomorrow, I'll have another chapter, in Edwards point of view, because Edward needs some lovin' too (haha). To come: HATE ON MIKE TIME. Yes. Oh, yes, the lyrics are from "Just Like Heaven" by The Cure.

Insert witty disclaimer here.


	7. Skepticism and True Believers

_Edward's point of view:_

"Excellent spaghetti Bolognese, dear." My father said to Esme. We were in the kitchen, all seven of us. I thought it was cramped. The rest of the family thought it was 'cozy'.

"It's super delicious," from Emmett.

"You've outdone yourself this time, Mom," Alice said.

They all looked at me expectantly. I sighed, and let my fork clatter to my plate. "Great."

Alice smirked. "He's got _love_ on the mind…" She said in her sing song voice, the voice that grated on my nerves like no other ever could. I zoned out as my family chatted.

Was it love? It couldn't be love; I was a junior, for God's sake. What did I know about love? Of course…I looked around the table, at the rest of my family, so happy in their love. Alice and Jasper, Rosalie and Emmett, and, last but not least, Carlisle and Esme, who loved each other so much it was sometimes painful to observe.

Bella was an enigma, for sure, no one could argue with that. I thought back to earlier today when I showed her my music collection, and how her eyes had lit up. And when she had been playing, how her-

"Hello! Edward!" Rosalie was snapping her fingers in my face. "I didn't think Alice was serious." I'm not sure, but I may have blushed. "Alice, Esme, and I are going to Seattle this weekend. Do you want to come?"

I mused over this for a moment. The women of the family going to the only shopping center in this state. I had a violent image of me, holding bags and bags of clothes. I would not be their clothes rack.

"Thank you, Rose, but I am sorry to decline your offer." Rose just rolled her eyes.

"Can't you talk like a normal person?"

It was my turn to roll my eyes. Carlisle laid a disapproving hand on Rosalie's arm. She sighed dramatically, and flipping her hair over her shoulder got up from the table.

I got up as well, walking to the sink and submerging my plate in the soapy water. "Oh, Edward?" Esme called.

"What?"

"You don't have any plans this weekend?" She called again. I walked to the table.

"No. Why should I?" she looked at Alice.

"No plans with any…certain girl?" That was it. I stomped up the stairs two at a time and slammed my door. I browsed through my music selection until I found the angriest music that I owned. Ustvolskaya. Perfect.

It was a wonderful end to a wonderful day.

**AN: So my two short little chapters…awww. They were, obviously, just little filler ones. I can't wait for the actual show! It will probably be like…three chapters long. That's how much I have planned, anyway. So, anyway, Mike hate coming up, because no story is complete without plenty of Mike hate.**

**I do own Twilight. That's right, a much loved copy of it. I don't, however, own the copy rights to it.**


	8. See Saw

Morning came too fast. How is it that 45 minutes of gym can stretch on for what seems like hours, yet 8 hours of sleep passes in mere moments? I groaned and rolled out of bed, making my way to the bathroom. The hot water of the shower did something to revive me, and what it couldn't do, the cold air of the hallway did.

I pulled my towel tighter, and threw open my closet doors. I had so many clothes, but nothing ever seemed to match my mood. I frowned, and opted for the classic pair of jeans and a nice long sleeved t-shirt. I swear, its warmer outside than it is in that infernal school. I grabbed my backpack and flitted down the stairs, holding securely onto the banister.

Charlie had already left for the station, and my mother was no doubt lolling in bed still. The beauty of being a stay at home mom, I presume. I grabbed an apple for the drive and called bye to my mom.

I pulled into the parking lot, slinging my bag over my shoulder as I got out of the car. I walked to the building quickly, as it was drizzling. I was accosted by Edward when I got onto the sidewalk.

"Hello, Bella." His hair was soaked and sticking to his face. It was adorable.

"Hello, Edward."

We walked towards building 1, eliciting quite a few stares. We stopped at the door. "I was wondering, Bella, if you would like to sit with me and my family at lunch today?"

That was not at all what I was expecting. It caught me off guard. "Er…I don't know," I hitched my bag up higher on my shoulder and tossed away my apple core, "Maybe?"

It was good enough for him. He smiled and turned on his heel. "I'll see you then."

"Yeah," I muttered. "See you then."

English was uneventful. Actually, English is _always_ uneventful. Things started to heat up in Spanish, however.

"Isabella? Would you come here a moment?" Senora Vazquez called me to her desk, flipping her coarse graying hair over her shoulder. "As you know, the show is Wednesday of next week. We have a rehearsal Saturday at two, and a dress rehearsal on Tuesday evening, directly after school. You will be there, of course."

I just nodded, and returned to my seat. Images of her having a conniption fit over Vivaldi kept replaying themselves in my head. After a boring lesson on the nominative case, plus a few other boring classes, lunch arrived, much to the pleasure of my grumbling stomach.

I walked into the cafeteria and remembered Edward's proposal. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, debating. I walked over to my usual table, still trying to decide. Jess looked up at me anxiously.

"So, is it true you're playing something with Edward?" Hmm.

I nodded.

"You like...go over to his _house_ and practice?" Alright, enough of that. I got up and went to the Cullen table. They all looked up at me.

"I decided to join you." Alice beamed and motioned to the seat next to her.

"I had this feeling you would. Jess certainly has a vivid imagination, huh?" I just grunted in response. For the most part of lunch I observed. It was obvious that there was a deep connection between all of the members of the family, even though Jasper and Rose were adopted. They joked and laughed, and I found myself wishing that I had a sibling…or a close friend, at the least.

I was pulled out of my reverie when I noticed belatedly that they were all looking at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Do you want to come to Seattle with me and Rose and Esme on Saturday?" Alice asked. She looked up at me with imploring eyes. Somewhere across the table Emmett was signaling that this would indeed be a bad idea.

"Saturday? I can't, Alice." Her face fell. "We have rehearsal."

She bit her lip. "Well, would you mind terribly if I got you something to wear for the show?" I was cut off from responding by the bell. She studied me up and down. "I know exactly what to get."

Edward rolled his eyes. "Come on, Bella," he said, pushing me along at the small of the back. "Can't be late to biology, now, can we?"

I sighed dismally. "That would indeed be a tragedy, Mr. Cullen." He smiled and we walked together to the room, sitting down at our lab table. I noticed an unwelcome surprise. Mike was sitting on our table. Why do people have to sit on tables? I've always wondered that. Are they that weak that they get tired so easily?

"Hey, Bella!" He greeted enthusiastically. I slammed my books down and he jumped a bit, to my satisfaction.

"Hi, Mike." I pulled out my seat and sat down, feeling Edward's eyes on my face the whole time.

Mike leaned forward a bit. "How has your day been?"

"Oh, you know…" I waved my hand airily. "Alright." Until now, I added mentally. Mike cleared his throat and straightened up.

"Well, I was wondering, this Friday, if you wanted to do something? Like…I dunno," I cringed inwardly. The _last_ thing I wanted to do was spend quality "alone" time with Mike Newton of all people.

"Um." I searched frantically in my mind for an excuse. "No." I came up dry. His face fell, and I felt guilty. "Uh…" I screwed up my face in concentration. "I'll be…" Yes, inspiration at last. I jerked my thumb towards Edward. "I'll be with Edward pra-"

Edward cleared his throat. "She will be having dinner with me, Mike." We both looked at him flabbergasted.

"She will?" He asked, mouth hanging open. "I will?" I asked. Mike looked at me.

"I mean…of course. How silly of me to forget." At that point Mr. Banner walked in, glaring forcefully at Mike. He got up from our table and meandered to his seat dejectedly.

I turned to Edward. "Thanks…I mean it. That boy…cannot take a hint." Edward smirked.

"My pleasure, Bella." I smiled a bit to myself, wondering vaguely whether we really would be going to dinner…or if that was a ploy to get Mike to leave?

I pondered this question through biology, through gym, and on my drive home. I guess I would find out Friday, but now I had a paper to edit and type.

**AN: Terribly sorry, dear readers, for not updating yesterday. I have been experiencing 'end of winter vacation blues'. That's right…school Monday. UGH. I'll try to update at least every other day, but I have auditions for orchestras next year! And some other stories to show some loving to. **


	9. Cave

**Mmm, the bitter taste of neglect. Yum. The truth: I haven't really been busy with work…I've been busy bingeing on food. And this is, yet another, filler chapter, but I really wanted to get something up. Hopefully, I'll post some **_**real**_** stuff soon, but don't hold me to it. **

I was sick of Alice Pyncheon, her stupid rotting house, decaying garden, and dilapidated summerhouse. I wish Nathaniel Hawthorne had boiled himself in some foul smelling substance.

By the time I was finished with my final draft, I could recite the entire paper to any person who expressed a wish in knowing. The printer jolted alive and I stood up from my computer. I know that one day, thanks to these silly high school English papers, I will end up with Carpal Tunnel syndrome.

It had been another long day, though quite a bit more interesting than others. I turned away from my computer and ambled to the bathroom. A shower sounded absolutely amazing.

As the heat and steam started enveloping the bathroom, I stepped into the shower, sitting down and letting the waterfall from above saturate my hair and body. I was thinking about life. What, really, is our purpose? Are we just supposed to repopulate the earth and then die? Is there something more?

I buried my head in my hands and let the water scald my body. My life, for example. I go to school, barely suffer through it, come home, do my homework sometimes, and read or cook. What kind of a life is that? Besides, books give me false ideals of romance.

During my musings, the water heater had decided to stop working, and now near freezing water rained down on me, shocking me into action. After I was dry and suitably dressed, I stumbled to my room and collapsed in my bed, deciding to forgo dinner. I fell asleep fitfully and woke many times during the night.

I woke up to the alien sight of sunlight flickering through my lace net curtains. I groaned and sat up, kneading the sleep from my eyes. It was one of those freezing winter days: the sun shining, but not in a warm, yellow kind of way…instead in the 'white light' sort of way.

I shuffled across the hall to the bathroom. I attempted, and subsequently failed, to make myself look presentable. Why does it matter? I reasoned with myself as I got dressed. I'm not trying to impress anyone. I suppose that was made obvious by my mismatching ensemble of jeans, sneakers, a long sleeve shirt, a zipped sweatshirt, a jacket, and a scarf. What can I say? I'm thin skinned.

I grabbed my bag, my books, and most importantly, my paper, and zipped down the stairs, giving Renee a peck on the cheek and running to the car, having taken longer than usual to get ready while lamenting my plainness.

I squealed into the parking lot and ran towards building 1 and to my English class. I was breathing heavily as I opened the door, and my tardiness earned a pointed glare from the teacher. "Swan," he muttered poring over his clipboard, "tardy to class, minus 20 participation points."

The usual sounds of my immature peers following someone getting in trouble ensued. I slouched to my seat and zipped up my sweatshirt, folding my arms over my chest as I sat down.

The teacher coughed and pushed up his glasses. "Following our completion of_ The House of the Seven Gables_ we move to another classic piece of American literature: _The Death of a Salesman._" I tried to stifle my groan. I did a book report on this book in sixth grade.

My day was getting worse and worse; it somehow escaped my notice that I had a quiz over double and single angle identities in Trigonometry, and Spanish…well, that's fairly self evident. I walked into the lunchroom and was struck by how incredibly _loud_ everything was. It was just this unintelligible hum hanging in the air.

I fought my way through the crowd and to the Cullen table and plopped down. The rest of the family was already sitting down, and all greeted me amiably.

"Rough day?" Asked Edward

I sighed, and nodded in response. "Have you had English yet?" He shook his head.

"No, I have it last."

"Well," I started, "next we move onto _Death of a Salesman_. Because somehow _that_ fits into a juniors' required reading list."

He laughed in agreement. "Oh," he said, and my head snapped to meet his gaze, "I'm sorry, but we can't practice tonight. Household matters." He muttered.

"Household matters?" I asked, intrigued, though perhaps rudely.

Emmett grinned at me from down the table. "Edward has trouble reading labels on paint cans, you see." I looked at Edward questioningly. He sighed deeply.

"Yesterday, Esme left a note for us to paint the garage, and I was in charge of finding the paint. Apparently," he smirked, "there is a _dramatic_ difference between egg-shell and cream."

"Yeah," Alice chimed in, "he got the _cream _colored paint, and Esme got home and had a minor conniption fit…so tonight he has to paint over everything white and _then_ paint it egg-shell." She smirked and patted him on the head, and I found myself wishing that I had siblings, or at the very least a close family.

They bantered amongst themselves playfully as I watched on. "I could help, if you want." I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. Wow, Bella, overeager much?

He smiled lopsidedly. "That would be great…if you really want to, that is." Alice coughed, and we broke our gaze as the bell rang, herding us to a few more hours of the hell known as school.

**Just setting up for the good stuff. :D**


	10. A Long Day Continues

**And, with no further ado:**

It had been a hell of a day, but at long last it was over. We had started archery in gym, but Coach Clapp had deemed it wise for me to be in charge of score keeping for the rest of the class. I believe it was his not so subtle way of telling me that my life is pointless.

I sat in the car freezing my butt off until I got the motivation to start it. I got a sadistic pleasure out of the way a few passing freshmen jumped as it revved to life. I was still snickering as I headed out of the parking lot and towards the Cullen's place.

There was no need to call home; Charlie would probably be working still when I got home, and Renee…well, only God knows what Renee was doing. Probably some New Age music lesson or Tai-Chi or something equally as wacky.

By the time I meandered through the winding drive leading to the white mansion of a house (and the equally imposing white mansion of a garage) I noticed that Edward's silver Volvo (I shuddered involuntarily) was parked in the garage and no one was inside. They must drive fast to be home so quickly, I mused.

I quietly closed the truck's door and sprinted carefully to the front door, eager to be out of the cold. Before I could knock it was opened by Alice. I had never before noticed, but the girl positively _bounced_ as she stood, as if brimming with uncontrollable happiness.

"Edward didn't think you'd come, but I told him you would. Have some tea, then you can paint. Or you don't have to paint, I can experiment on you with this new color combination I thought of during Trig. It was this kind of aquamarine, the same color as Mr. Varner's pen that he graded my test with, then I thought how about a darker blue with it? Not royal, but more-"

She chattered her way into the kitchen, with me following bewilderedly behind her. I stopped in my tracks, my heart aching from how _adorable_ it was. Esme was bustling around with a tea kettle in her hand and Rosalie, Emmett, Edward and Jasper were crowded around the table near the windows, warming their hands on mugs of tea.

Esme turned and exclaimed "Oh, Bella, I must dash to the dentists office, but sit down, have some tea or something," she shrugged into her coat and grabbed her purse, "don't forget, preheat the oven to 350 at around 5:30 Rosalie, and Emmett, make sure you don't forget to _grease_ the pan this time." She smiled at me once more before leaving out the front door and running to the garage.

Edward stood up from his chair in greeting. 'Hello' chorused from around the table as Edward approached me. "Hello, Bella. Would you like something to eat? Drink? Tea or Scots baps? Esme made boysenberry preserves, as well." I couldn't help but wonder at the nonchalant way he said it, as if it was normal for mothers to gather berries and make jellies and breads. Perhaps for his mother it was normal.

I sighed in acceptance of the fact that I would always have fat around my hips and stomach. It was normal, I repeated to myself. "Tea, please." I sandwiched myself between Emmett and Jasper as Edward matronly busied himself with the pot and a large mug. Emmett grinned at me from my right, his teeth stained black from the berries.

Oh, hell. I reached for a bap and slathered it with butter and jelly, digging in with fervor. The family watched in amusement as I steadily discovered Esme's gift.

A few baps later I groaned. "How are you not all mortally obese?" They all laughed and shrugged.

Edward stood and stretched. "Well. We'd best get started. Are you sure you want to do this, Bella?" I rolled my eyes.

"No, now that I've eaten your food and taken advantage of your hospitality I'm just going to leave." He raised his eyebrows. "Of _course_ I'm coming, silly." We ran across the frozen ground and into the garage. In the time it took for us to cover the short distance, my throat was literally frozen by the cold wind.

I collapsed on the floor of the garage and greedily sucked in breath as Edward manually pulled the garage door down. I stood up slowly from the ground, rubbing my hands together. I watched as Edward walked to the windows and pulled them all open. I shouted in protest as the cold air came rushing in.

"Can't we leave them shut?"

He snorted. "Sure, if you want to pass out from the toxicity of the paint fumes in such a confined area."

Ah. I nodded my head. "Yes, I forgot about that." He grinned slyly at me. "I thought you had." I watched as he rolled up his pant legs and shirt sleeves and grabbed two paint trays and rollers, attaching the sticks to the end. I grabbed mine and rolled my sleeves up as well.

"Do you want painting clothes?" He offered. I looked down and studies my shirt and pants.

"No, thanks, I don't particularly care about these clothes." He nodded and poured out some paint. I looked around the three car garage. It was so neat and orderly that I felt suffocated.

On one wall there were neat little orderly shelves stocked with spades and flower pots and seeding and sod and everything lawn related. There were tool boxes, auto repair tools, paint supplies, piles of wood, and plenty of things I couldn't even dream of naming.

"So, why does this need to be painted, exactly?" I wondered out loud.

Edward snorted in derision. "Esme wants to stencil a design on to the walls, and apparently she matched the white paint to the white in the curtains she will put up, and it was egg-shell. I'm not even sure, actually. I just know that I have to repaint it."

I smiled. "Well, we don't even have a garage." A strong gust of wind blew in through the window and rifled through my hair. "If we did, it would certainly look like a werewolf or something lived there. The rest of our house does, at any rate." I bit my lip thinking of all the disorganized clutter. Homey, Renee called it. Slovenly, I say.

"I've never seen your house." Edward said. I raised a brow questioningly. "I mean," he hastened to say, "I've seen the outside, of course, but never been inside. I'm sure its lovely, though. Sometimes Esme's cleanness gets a bit…intimidating. Not that your house would be messy! Just…" He let out his breath in a deep sigh.

"Nevermind. Let's just paint." He rolled his roller in paint and we set to with gusto. We had made it a quarter of the way through in complete silence with no disasters…but of course, what would a simple afternoon painting be without a major catastrophe?

What, indeed. We had split up the wall; I did the top half with the little stick attached, Edward did the bottom half, having taken his stick off the roller. We were on the same patch of wall, I above, he below, on a corner that jutted out with a little enclave storing a grill behind it.

It was my fault; I was spacing out, not paying attention, and my roller slipped off the corner. It wouldn't have been a big deal, except Edward's head was directly below. He let out a strangled curse and stepped backwards…directly onto the paint tray. The paint in the tray was catapulted onto both our legs, saturating my pants and Edwards ankles in expensive creamy paint.

We turned to each other. My mouth was gaping and I was _aflame_ with embarrassment. "I am _so_ sorry, Oh Lord, Edward."

To my surprise he didn't seem upset. On the contrary, the half of his face that was splattered with white paint lifted up into a lopsided grin. He bent down deliberately and rolled his roller in the paint and stood up. I was standing still, still slack jawed with embarrassment, and was not expecting what was coming: Edward Cullen reached out his arm and made one long stroke with his hand down my leg, covering it with egg-shell white paint.

My mouth closed. It was animal instinct. I curse my forebears for the initial reaction. I retaliated without even realizing it. Paint flew back and forth across the garage, and my giggles resounded through the air.

I was engaging in a brutal paint fight with Edward Cullen. How strange is that? To see the unbreakable, stoic reserve of Edward…broken?

A strong gust of frigid winter air interrupted our impromptu battle, and we both turned like raccoons interrupted from our midnight snack to the disturbance. Emmett was standing at the entrance of the garage, open mouthed and gaping.

I looked at Edward, and followed his horrified gaze to a shiny red…convertible. Who the hell leaves the top to their car down in the dead of winter?

"_Shit_, Edward, you are _so_ dead." Emmett said, sounding strangely smug.

**AN: Oh my geez, I know, I updated. The above scenario (Or a variation of it) happened to me a while ago while painting scenery for a play. Except, the girl whose hair I got a shitload of paint in wasn't so forgiving. **


	11. Bury Me With It

_Shit, Edward, you are so dead._

Emmett guffawed and slapped his knee while Edward clenched his jaw tightly.

"Your concern and empathy continues to astound, Emmett." Emmett continued to laugh boisterously as Edward and I both cautiously made our way towards the glistening convertible.

I looked inside and winced. The once immaculate (no doubt Italian) leather upholstery was marred by one single imperfection. A large blot of white paint shone on the passenger seat defiantly. At first, I thought that was it, but upon closer inspection, I discovered several spots on the floor of the car, and two dripping stains on the passenger door.

I closed my eyes and bowed my head, willing for this to be a particularly horrible dream.

Of course, it wasn't. I heard Edward exhale softly next to me. I surreptitiously looked up and met his eyes. To my immense surprise, he was smiling slightly.

"You certainly have a way with cars, don't you?"

I blushed furiously, abashed at being reminded of that painful day in the parking lot. "I-" I fidgeted with my fingers and shifted the balance of my feet a few times. "I am _so_ sorry. If there is anything I can do, I can pay for it to be removed, or if-"

Edward cut me off smoothly. "Nonsense. It's my fault." I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up a hand, silencing me. "Besides, it's leather, so-"

Someone coughed delicately. It was Emmett. "It's not just leather," he grinned wickedly, "It was a premium grade natural hide, with a smooth grain leather matte finish."

My stomach plummeted. Peripherally, I noticed Edward's face tighten. "Emmett. You have done enough, thank you. Please leave."

Emmett smiled again. "All right. I'm going to go get Rose. Okay?" Edward waved a hand dismissively and took me by the elbow, guiding me to my truck.

"Look," he said as he opened the driver's door for me, "it's really not a big deal…but all the same, I would prefer it if you were not in the vicinity when Rosalie sees. She has a tendency to be a bit melodramatic, you could say."

He grasped my hand and helped me into my seat. I felt like Elizabeth Bennett being helped into her carriage after the ball at Pemberley by Mr. Darcy.

Woah, now. Where did that come from? I noticed Edward still looking at me, and I struggled to complete a thought. "Uh…" I swallowed nervously and broke his intense gaze. "Thanks, I guess. I'm sorry, again, if there's _anything_ I can do, please…I just feel guilty leaving…" I trailed off.

Edward's mouth lifted up into a grin as he shut the door to the cab. "I'll see you tomorrow, Bella. Rehearsal in the gym, right?"

"Uh, yeah, I think so." I turned the key and started the engine, backing away slowly. It may have been my imagination, or perhaps the hum of the truck, but I could have sworn I heard a keening shriek as I drove down the wooded drive.

"Isabella! Where have you _been_?" Shouted Renee. I cringed and dropped my book bag on the floor at the foot of the stairs. "And _what_ is all over you?" Her nostrils flared, and I knew she was truly angry.

"I was at the Cullen's, Mom. We were painting." I wandered into the kitchen looking for something warm to drink.

"You should have called, Bella," I heard the front door open and felt a gust of cold wind; Charlie was home. "I was worried sick. For all I knew," here her voice rose a few octaves, "you could have been lying on the side of the road! Dying!"

I rolled my eyes at my mother's hysterics. "Oh, _Mom_. If there was a crash, someone would have called Dad, who would have called you."

I heard Charlie unzipping his coat, and like some sort of giant bear he ambled into the kitchen, hugging my mother as he came in. "What's this I hear?"

Renee pecked him on the cheek. "Bella was gone all afternoon at the Cullen's and didn't think it necessary to call me!"

I closed my eyes and breathed, counting silently to 10 and trying to not get worked up. I looked up and saw Charlie purse his lips. "The Cullen's, huh? Which one's caught your fancy, Bells?"

I groaned. "None have 'caught my fancy', Dad, it's for this stupid talent show." He and Renee exchanged glances, then looked pointedly at my paint stained clothes.

"Yeah, that seems pretty music related to me, seem that way to you too, Renee?" They continued to banter in this matter, and soon enough I had enough of it.

"Well." I slapped my palm on the kitchen table for emphasis. "I'm going to shower."

"Don't forget to get the paint out of your hair!" Renee snickered. "Whatever," I mumbled, a sea of thoughts and emotions churning in me violently.

**Disclaimer: I own lots of things, like a sweet vintage bed, and an original copy of "Bernice Bobs Her Hair" and the complete works of Oscar Wilde and PG Wodehouse. Sadly, however, I don't own the rights to Twilight. If I did, Robert Pattinson would be serving eternal bondage to me.**

**A/N: Sadly, only a few more chapters remain. Maybe four or five? Hmm. Anyway. I hope you enjoyed the newest installment of "Take a Bow"!**


	12. Panic

Warm cinnamon muffins

Warm cinnamon muffins. That's all I was thinking about during school. Cinnamon just seems so warm and festive…I think what started it all was a whiff of Alice's cinnamon lip gloss. I was passing her in the hall way and I couldn't help but notice how shiny her lips looked. It caused me to run my tongue over my relatively dry lips. There's only so much Burt's Bee's can do against the harsh winter wind.

And ever since 7:50 this morning I've been thinking of cinnamon muffins and milk. Usually what I'll do when I'm bored during school is plan _exactly_ what I'll do when I get home. It occupies me during English (_So, you see, the House of the Seven Gables blah blah)_ 1. Hang up scarf and jacket. 2. Find large ceramic mug and put water on to boil. 3. After tea has steeped, pour cream into tea.

Through Spanish, too, I'll zone out…

But there is no point today, because I know exactly what I'll be doing after school. It will probably go something like this:

Make tea, read a book, do homework, watch a movie, go to sleep. Rinse and repeat next week. Sometimes things just get old, you know?

My thoughts were interrupted by the pealing of the bell. So quickly? I guess time flies when you're having fun. I ambled to the lunch room, swept along by the crowd. My steps got slower and slower as I neared the large room. I decided I would take a peek inside. If I could see Rosalie's luminous head of blonde hair, I would be spending this lunch period in the car or the bathroom.

I bit my lip and looked around the door…I saw one auburn head, one black head, one shaggy blonde head, and a curly brown head. I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank the Lord.

I grasped my paper sack of lunch and walked across the lunchroom and slid onto the bench in front of the table. We exchanged our little pleasantries, (Hey Bella! Hi Bella! Hey guys…) and that was that. I bit halfheartedly into my peanut butter and honey sandwich, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"So," I started, looking down at the table, "Where's Rosalie today?" I heard a stifled snort and looked up to see Jasper look down at his tray of food smiling widely.

"She's sick." Emmett said. He looked at me and grinned, taking a bite of his hot dog. I could imagine her lying in the bathtub with slashed wrists.

"Sick?" I queried. That seemed to come on awfully sudden. I heard Jasper snort again, and next heard Alice's fist make contact with his arm.

Edward spoke for the first time. "She was out late last night. In the cold." He looked at his tray where his hands were busy ripping his bagel to shreds.

I swallowed. "Oh." She was out in the cold of the garage. Mourning her car, just like Edward had mourned his so many years ago. At least they could be united in their grief.

I looked up and saw they were all biting back smiles at this point. "It was hilarious!" Alice squealed. "I mean, once Edward got over the initial _pain_ of it all, and our ears recovered from the shock, it was great! I ran out of the house after Rose and see, earlier, I had put my little camcorder out on a table by the door, I can't remember why, but then when Rosalie went running out, I grabbed it, and I filmed everything!"

My hand was covering my mouth. Edward had gotten physically abused because of me! Rosalie was sick because of me! I felt like such an awful person.

Emmett was laughing boisterously and smacking the table with his hand, causing all of our trays to bounce up and down. "It was _amazing_. It would have been better if Alice hadn't been giggling. Rose's yelling is covered up at times by this high pitched "he-he-he"-ing of Alice. It's _definitely_ going on YouTube."

A new wave of guilt washed over me. "I'm sorry I wasn't there," I caught Edward's eye. "You know…to absorb some of the rage."

Edward opened his mouth but was cut off by Alice. "It's better you weren't there. Really. Rose would probably have ripped your hair out."

I blanched, and Edward glared disapprovingly at Alice. "Really, Bella, it's better this way. Just give Rose time to cool off and she'll be fine."

I nodded, not quite believing him. Suddenly, the bell rang, cutting off any further conversation at the table. I looked dismally at my half eaten PB and honey sandwich. I decided to risk invoking the fury of the patrolling teachers, and to take my food in the hall with me.

I had just taken a delicious bite, savoring the sweetness on my tongue, when a silken voice at my ear caused me to jump wildly and choke on my sandwich. After what seemed like minutes of me coughing my small bite of sandwich up and Edward patting my back awkwardly, I coughed delicately, pitching my sandwich into the nearest trash can.

"You were saying?" I asked suavely, trying to cover my earlier embarrassment.

He didn't remove his hand from my back, and seemed to steer me through the throng of students.

"I was asking," we dodged a harried looking freshman, "if you were still up for dinner tonight." We passed a pair of intertwined sophomores and I stopped abruptly.

Dinner. With Edward. I tried to stop from grinning.

"All right."

He smiled and we continued to Biology, both probably looking like grinning fools.

So much for just another Friday night.


	13. Let's Submerge

I was on a rampage

I was on a rampage. I was mad at myself for not buying any cute clothes, and I was mad at Renee for not forcing me to buy any cute clothes. The contents of my closet and bureau drawers were strewn across my room. I sat in the middle of the mess and buried my face in my hands.

No tights. That automatically ruled out skirts and dresses…I mean, it's December after all. All of my jeans were ripped or tea-stained, or worn out or paint stained and not nice enough. Well, I didn't even know where we were going. I groaned.

Downstairs I heard the doorbell ring. Renee's new yoga mat. I heard muffled voices and Renee squeal. It made me even more depressed. I looked around my room for something that screamed I-have-a-hot-date-that-may-not-be-a-date-but-then-again-it-could-be-so-I-should-dress-somewhat-nicer. Nothing screamed.

In that moment of my misery something small and hard collided with me, making a strange high pitched noise. I was knocked backwards onto my bed, the wind knocked out of me temporarily.

"Alice?" I looked up at the midget in front of me. She bounced up and down and smiled broadly and giggled randomly. I began to wonder if they gave people sugar enemas…

"Alice, what are you doing here?" She plopped onto the bed beside me and bounced, making the mattress squeak.

"Well, Edward was going to call you to tell you he was going to pick you up at six, but then I knew I had to come over here to make sure you were wearing something appropriate, so I told him I'd tell you, and I got him to tell me he was taking you to some place in Port Angeles 'cause there's no place in Forks to eat without your grandparents and mom's best friend ogling at you, so I figured jeans casual, except not _your_ jeans, like, dark snug jeans casual, with maybe boots? But some heels or flats could work to, and I was looking online and I found this updo I wanted to experiment with-"

She said all of this in about thirty seconds and it made my brain hurt. All I knew was she had the knowledge of the whole fashion world in her little body and I knew that if anyone could make me look presentable, it would be Alice. Or Rosalie, but we don't want to go down that road right now.

"Alice," I started. She looked at me biting her bottom lip, "I am completely in your hands."

She smiled and clapped her hands together. She ran to the hall and re-emerged a moment later carrying a terrifyingly enormous train case and a black paper shopping bag bearing the initials CB.

I started to doubt my offer.

She grabbed me by the elbow. "Lead the way, young Bella." I steered her towards the bathroom and closed the door. Perhaps it was just me, but it seemed to close with a resounding echo, like a dungeon door closing on a soon to be tortured prisoner. She surveyed the small room and narrowed her eyes.

She nodded a few times and began to set up her stuff on the bathroom counter. "Hey, Bella?" I looked up from a particularly interesting hangnail on my pinky.

"Yeah?" She didn't look up from an array of glinting metal tools. "Could you go see if you have a little stool or something, please?"

I hopped up to go find one. When I got back, I could barely recognize the bathroom as my own. Alice was perched on the countertop, surrounded by the tools of her trade. I put down the stool in front of her and sat, taking a deep breath.

"All right, Alice, work your magic."

She laughed delightedly. "I'm only too happy to oblige. But first…take off your sweater, so you're just in that tank top." I did as I was instructed, and prepared myself. I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. And waited.

"Um, Bella?" I opened an eye.

"Wash your face first." I sat up.

"Oh. Right." I acquiesced then sat back down.

She picked up a pair of tweezers and I could swear that a malicious glint came into her eyes. I gulped nervously, not expecting to be tweezed.

"Ow!"

"Stop being such a baby!" Pluck.

"Ouch!"

"It's the price of beauty, Bella."

"Owww!"

"Hell, Bella, I can make this extremely painful if you don't stop!" I stopped. A minute later she was done.

"There, that's nice." She picked up a container and dipped her finger in, tapping it under my eyes and around my face. I thought it would never end. I was brushed, smudged, rubbed, dabbed, patted, and buffed into oblivion. I thought she was finally done, and made to stand up.

Her iron hand pushed me back down. "Bella! I haven't even done your eyes yet! We're going to go for a smoky eyed look. Alluring and sexy." She giggled.

Alluring and sexy may work for some people, but it just doesn't for me, as Alice found out. She pursed her lips.

"All you need to complete the ensemble is a pair of fishnets, boots, and gum. And a nice street-corner somewhere." She sighed and got out a bottle of make up remover, rubbing the disastrous do off.

She talked as she worked. "I guess you do look better _au natural_. I was foraging through the makeup room I share with Rose and I found a few different lips glosses and lipsticks I thought might look nice. Just last weekend Esme and I went to this little store in Port Angeles, and there was this Sephora brand lip section, and I thought it was too good to be true! But it wasn't, and I found this matte pinkish selection-here, go like this." She demonstrated with her lips, flattening them out. "Good, good. Let's see, I have Berry Berry, Double Truffle, Vintage Wine, Pink Chocolate, and Red Wine."

She surveyed my face with a look of supreme concentration.

"Red Wine's out. Maybe if I _wanted_ you to look like a streetwalker. I think…" She rubbed the back of her hand with a few of the lipsticks. "I think…Vintage Wine is our best bet." She smeared it across my lips. "Oooh, yes, that's good. Now, like this- ehhhh." She mimicked once again how to place my lips.

"Allright. Look up." Up I looked, as ground up fish scales were spread through my lashes.

"Your lashes are so long, I'm so jealous." She looked at me long and hard and made me feel generally uncomfortable.

"Okay!" She jumped up. "You're done!" I looked in the mirror and hardly recognized the girl staring back.

"Alice, you truly are a miracle worker." Alice grinned.

"Thanks, but it was there all along. You're really quite pretty, you know. Holy Hell! It's 5 already!"

She grabbed my hand and pulled me to my room emptying the contents of the second bag on my bed. "Take off your tank top. Put this on." She threw a longer white tank top to me. "This is all stuff that was Rosalie's in like…eighth grade. She was always more…well endowed than most." She giggled. "Hmm…no, that totally clashes with your lips. Take this!" She threw a green tunic shirt at me, then immediately grabbed it back. "No. This is it." She held up a simple black and white striped three quarter length shirt.

I pulled on the shirt, careful not to mess up my makeup. "Now, show me your jeans." She commanded. I dutifully led her to my closet. She browsed quickly, throwing pairs aside left and right.

She held up my favorite pair. They were frayed at the hems and well loved, but soft and cozy. "Put these on and…." She went to her bag once more, "and this belt."

She stepped back. "Turn. Mhmm, and turn again. Great!" I smiled unconsciously and twirled about feeling lighthearted. "Come on!" Alice grabbed my hand, "Let's go show your mom!" We skipped down the stairs and skidded to a halt in front of Renee.

She spun around from the stove, spatula in hand. She gasped. "Oh, Bella, you look beautiful! When the doorbell rang I thought for sure it was my yoga mat, but Alice was a much better surprise!" She grinned and hugged me.

"Shouldn't I help you clean up, Alice?" Alice scoffed. "Like you could help me. I'll do it while you're out on your hot date."

I blushed and we walked towards the living room. Alice suddenly squealed, looking at her watch. "It's almost six! You sit here, I'll run upstairs and be back in a flash." True to her word, about 10 seconds later Alice was downstairs holding my coat, a pair of earrings, and a pair of shoes.

I slipped on my peacoat and pulled the earrings through my ear-holes. Then I came to the shoes. They were pink heels. Hot pink, pointy toed, killing machines. "Alice-" The doorbell rang.

Alice squealed, and I heard Renee do the same from the kitchen. "You have no choice now! Put them on and go!" I groaned and slipped the shoes on my feet, wobbling to the door.

I took a deep breath and reached for the handle. This was it.

AN: This is like…a record length chapter. AND, two chapters in one day. The next one will be fun! Yay! Anyway, I made these NASTY zucchini-carrot muffins. The picture looked good, but they were god-awful. I also recently discovered a fetish for wedding dresses. Claire Pettibone…go check it out. I can't wait to be married and have a pretty wedding. Anyway, I would, once again, like to thank everyone who reviews. You make my life!

Disclaimer: I don't own it. If I did, take my word for it, Robert Pattinson would be my slave.


	14. Les Poissons

My hand was sweaty on the brass door handle

AN: I was planning to say something witty right here, but I kind of lost inspiration for witty author's notes. Be sad.

Disclaimer: Insert standard boring blah blah disclaimer here.

My hand was sweaty on the brass door handle. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply once more, then opened the door.

The first thing I saw were two hairy legs in brown shorts and a matching brown polo, the polo bearing the name "Boris" proudly. 

I deflated. "Renee!" I called, not looking at the delivery man, "your yoga mat is here." I heard Renee squeal from the kitchen and I turned around, only to hear a muffled "oomph" from somewhere outside.

I turned, puzzled, back to the door, and saw two entwined men in our shrubbery. One in the aforementioned unflattering brown uniform, the other more stylishly attired in khaki pants and a black corduroy jacket.

I tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a giggle as they pulled themselves up from the ground, dusting the snow and greenery off of their clothes.

"I am _so _sorry, really-"

"Oh, no, my fault-"

There was a wrenching on my arm. It was, of course, Alice. She pulled me behind the door, out of earshot of Edward and the post man.

"Now," she whispered hurriedly, "don't order spaghetti, a huge sandwich with a crapload of sauce, soup with long noodles, or anything else that you'll look like a savage while eating. And-" Renee passed by us to collect her package, "don't crunch the ice in your glass," I heard Edward greet Renee from a few feet away. Alice grabbed my chin, "And Bella, please, _please,_ try to _not_ do anything to his car. Okay?" I nodded and hopped back in front of the door.

Renee was simpering, obviously enchanted by Edward's absurdly and ridiculously attractive face. They both turned toward me.

"Hello, Bella," Edward smiled and offered me his arm. I took it gladly, noting the treacherously icy steps in front of me. "Goodbye, Mrs. Swan," he yelled over his shoulder.

"Bye, Mom!" I yelled too. We made it accident free to his car where he opened the door gallantly, and I slipped inside. I exhaled, enjoying the moment of peace I had, and wondering briefly about what else the night would bring.

He opened the door and pulled on his seatbelt, turning the key in the ignition as he finished. He turned on the radio and fiddled for a moment with all the buttons.

"So, Bella, how have you been this fine day?"

I smiled. "Oh, all right. And how have you been this _glorious_ day, my fine sir?" He laughed and sped away.

"I'm much better now, thanks to you." I blushed.

"And…how is Rosalie?" He looked at me out of the corner of his eye and grinned.

"She is also much better, thanks to you. You gave her the perfect excuse to send her car to get the entire inside reupholstered. She is really quite thankful. Once she got over the initial shock, that is." I noticed he rubbed his arm tenderly.

"Well. Tell her I am quite glad to oblige." I bit my lip, thinking about that day.

"I think you should know," Edward said, "that the damage we caused really was minimal. Later on in the evening, Rose went to the garage and splattered paint inside the car herself. The only way Carlisle would have consented to new upholstery was if the car had a lot of paint in it. _She _saw to that."

I laughed delightedly. It seemed as if a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I was friends with Alice, Rosalie didn't hate me, I didn't do horrific damage to another Cullen car, and I was on a date with none other than Edward Cullen. Though it was more of a friendship date. Really, it was.

I rested my arm on the window and blew a strand of hair out of my face. "So where are we going?"

Edward flicked his eyes away from the road and towards me. "La Bella Italia? Do you like Italian food?" I smiled. Alice was right.

"Who doesn't like Italian food? It's like…more American than baseball." He scoffed.

"Well, I'm not sure about that…" He broke off and looked at me, studying me. I shrunk from the attention, feeling suddenly self conscious.

"I really know nothing about you, you know…" I furrowed my brow.

"I know less about you. What do you want to know?"

"What made you want to play the violin?"

I laughed, thinking of how it started. "My mother used to make me listen to 'Baroque 'N Eggs' with her every Sunday morning. She'd always play classical music around the house…I don't know, it just kind of caught on. We got a cheap little violin and discovered that, you know, I was _good_, and things just kind of ballooned out from there. How about you? The piano?"

"Esme and Carlisle made us all take lessons. All of my other siblings threw a fit and were allowed to quit, but I liked it. It was a kind of haven, a way for me to express the way I was really feeling, without everyone else really knowing." He shrugged.

I studied him. "I wouldn't have really pegged you for a piano man from first glance."

He looked over and raised a brow. "Really? What would you have thought?" I bit the inside of my cheek, thinking.

"I'm not sure. Probably the hurdy-gurdy."

"The hurdy-gurdy?" Disdain was obvious in his voice.

"I'm kidding. I just think it's a cool word. Hmm…maybe the guitar or bass?"

"Strings and I don't mix. We're not all musical prodigies after all." He whipped into a small parking spot, one I would have been too cowardly to try and squeeze into. While I fumbled with my seat belt he walked around the back of the car and to my door, gallantly holding it open for me.

I grabbed onto the door frame and heaved myself out, stumbling on my pointy heels. He gently held my elbow, steadying me.

"Favorite color?"

I rolled my eyes. "I didn't think we were getting _that_ basic."

"Answer the question, Bella." I pursed my lips.

"It changes as often as the weather. Oh," I frowned. "The weather doesn't change here. Well, it changes frequently, but right now its probably black."

He opened the door to the restaurant and wrinkled his nose.

"Black?"

"I don't know…it's so…dramatic, you know? I like blue, too, though, and maroon-"

"How many?" The hostess cut me off and raised a perfectly plucked brow at Edward.

"Just two, please." She smiled warmly and grabbed two menus, motioning for us to follow. Edward's hand was at the small of my back, guiding me across the hazardous carpet. I involuntarily straightened my spine.

A waitress sauntered (no exaggeration) to our table and whipped out a little notepad. "Hello, my name is Amber, is there anything I can get you two to drink?"

Edward looked at me inquiringly. "Uh, just a water."

"Two waters," he said, and immediately flicked his eyes to his menu. She got the hint. Poor Amber.

"Is the mini-inquisition over now?" I asked sarcastically. His eyes flicked up and met mine.

"Consider this a temporary respite as I satiate my hunger." I sighed and focused on the menu.

_Antipasta._ I know what that one means…appetizer. One for Bella. It was one of those rather high end restaurants. You know, the one with the wine menu and the foreign names with no explanation.

_Chicken Scampi_. I have no idea what that implies…_Marsala_? My brow furrowed and I scoured the menu for something that I could understand…to be sure I wouldn't end up with a plate full of liver or some such thing. My eyes lit on _Venetian Apricot Chicken_. That sounded straightforward enough. From Venice, something to do with apricots-

I was interrupted from my musings by Amber bringing us a basket of steaming bread. My stomach growled. Audibly. Edward smirked and I, predictably, blushed redder than the checkered tablecloth.

"Are you ready to order?" I tried not to notice how she angled her body towards Edward, or how she cocked her hip and flipped her hair.

"Bella?"

"Um, yeah, the Venetian Apricot Chicken? Please?" She wrote it down and spun back to Edward.

"Anything I can get you?" I barely concealed the snort that threatened to rise to the surface. He looked up at her, eyes smoldering, and ordered something which sounded, to my untrained ears, like something to do with veal. With a perfect Italian accent, of course.

She stuttered a response and walked away, blushing. Edward looked at me, puzzled. "Did I do something?"

"Well, besides dazzling her…" I trailed off and he frowned again.

"Dazzling?"

"Oh, come on, you have to have noticed all the lust filled stares you get. Even from teachers."

He smirked, dazzling _me_ at this point.

"Do I dazzle you?" He asked, his smile broad.

"Never," I sniffed, "and don't even try." He grinned and my heart broke in two.

"I'll try my hardest. I mean, not to try. If that makes any sense."

"Perfect sense, thanks."

We went on in this manner for some times. He asked the questions and I supplied the answers in between mouthfuls of chicken. When I tried to get a question in edgewise he would just smile and say 'not today'.

Whatever. I stopped trying to understand the Cullens shortly after I met them. I leaned back in my chair and let the evening progress.

AN: I know, I know, about time, huh? Well, I've been kind of in the middle of a possible move to Germany and what with AP finals coming up I'm kind of stressed. This is PART 1…the next chapter will be the end of this night…thing.


	15. Message

Ahh, sorry to get your hopes up, but I'm leaving tomorrow for Germany

Ahh, sorry to get your hopes up, but I'm leaving tomorrow for Germany. I'll be in Berlin/Dresden until June 28. I leave again July 18 to _move_ to Germany (Kaiserslautern). I _may_ post a chapter tomorrow if I get a sudden bout of inspiration, but definitely check back the beginning of July. I have 26 hours on a plane. God help me if I don't write _something_.

And I got 'The Host'! I'm not very far (I'm saving it for the plane), but I like it…it's different…

Anyway, toodle-oooo! Auf wiedersehen….or I guess it would actually be 'Auf wiedersprechen!'. Haha.


	16. Iron

"So

"Soooo?" Alice asked, voice scratchy over the phone. I twirled and the phone cord twisted about my torso.

"So what, Alice?"

I heard her cluck her tongue over the line, and could picture her rolling her eyes in exasperation.

"So _then_ what happened?" I sighed and looked at the clock. It had been half an hour and Alice had made me take her through a minute by minute description of my 'date'.

"Couldn't you just ask your brother? Nothing happened. He drove me to my house. I got out of the car and went inside. End of story."

There was silence from her end. "You didn't kiss? Nothing?"

"Well…" I debated with myself…should I keep this to myself? It seemed too…personal…to go sharing with everyone and their brother.

"He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear." I cringed. It sounded so lame when I said it, but I couldn't forget the way his fingers lingered on my cheek or the way he stared as I got out of the car.

Obviously Alice didn't find it lame, if her screech was anything to go by.

"Oh! That is so- well, I don't know if _sweet_ is the right sentiment…but its kind of…adorable. As in, 'Edward you are so bad with girls', adorable."

"Mmm," I assented, though not agreeing. I saw nothing wrong with Edward. I rubbed my sore feet, staring at them dismally. They were red and swollen. I felt like a pregnant woman.

"Alice. I am going to end up with hammer toe from just one evening of heel-wearing. Just-"

I heard muffled shouting at the other end and the sound of a phone being dropped. "Look," Alice interrupted breathily, "I've got to go help Rosalie highlight her hair; I'll talk to you later." She giggled. "Sweet dreams."

The line went dead. I looked at the phone in my hand. I was too….ugh, I don't _know_. Tired? Not physically tired. Just exhausted by everything. Even hanging up the phone seemed too strenuous. I was planning on brushing my teeth. And showering. Or at the very least washing my face. But none of that happened.

Here's what did happen: I collapsed on my bed, jean and too tight shirt clad, with gunk all over my face. That's how tired I was.

I woke up feeling groggy the next morning, but noticed that someone (Renee, most likely) had come and thrown an afghan over me. There was a sticky fuzz in my mouth. The fuzz I associate with more than 12 hours of sleep after not having brushed my teeth. I propped myself up on my elbow and looked at the alarm clock.

And subsequently panicked. 11:00. Already. I did some quick calculations in my head. I had been asleep for a little over 12 hours. Impossible. An hour. I had one hour to make myself look presentable, find my music, my violin, eat breakfast, and get to the school.

I groaned and threw the comforter off my bed, wincing at the cold air. It probably didn't mean anything. It was just dinner. The consumption of food with another human being. That was it. And the hair was just in my face and it was annoying him. So he moved it. No big deal, Bella.

Then why did I feel this way? I groaned again. The last thing I wanted to do was start blushing every time I saw Edward Cullen. Which happened to be frequently.

I studied my face in the mirror as I washed it. Just _thinking_ about last night made me blush. Oh, a hopeless case if ever there was one. I hopped in the car, having procured my case, and stuck the key in the ignition. Nothing happened.

"Oh, come _on!_" What a day. "Come on, come on, come on." In a moment of insanity I envisioned myself as Eliza Doolittle at the races. You know, 'Come on, Dover, come on!' and so forth.

Aha! Success at last. The truck roared to life, half startling me out of my stupor. I sped away (I'm sure Charlie would have been horrified) like a bat out of Hell.

I pulled into the Forks High parking lot and dashed inside, risking a glance at the clock. 11:58. I made it.

I ran into the gym/auditorium and was amazed at the sheer size of the crowd. Who _wasn't_ doing something in the show? I craned my neck to peer over the crowd, looking for a tall bronze headed boy.

I spotted him in a corner by the water fountain, somehow managing to look aloof and collected as he was hounded by his one-girl fan club of Jessica Stanley. That girl could not take a hint.

I walked towards them, swinging my violin case merrily. "-and so Lauren was like 'Woah, Jess, I'm totally jealous of how your hair is like, frizz-less and perfect _all _the time.' So I said, 'Yeah, but not as perfect as Edward's, I mean-"

"Bella!" Edward called my name and broke into a grin. "I'm _so_ glad you are here!" He flicked his eyes toward Jessica and I nodded as subtly as I could, which probably wasn't subtle at all.

He took my arm as if to guide me away, but was interrupted by Jess. She cleared her throat and tried to situate herself between Edward and me.

"So, I'm em-" She began. Edward dragged me away.

"Er. Bye, Jess!" I called over my shoulder, trying not to look too gleeful at the expression on her face.

I sat with Edward on the stairs in front of the mini-stage. He exhaled noisily. "Christ Almighty, that girl talks more than Alice and Rosalie _and_ Emmettall combined."

I smiled, knowing all too well what he meant. I'd known the girl virtually since birth. Actually, our mothers had probably gone to some neo-natal hypnosis class or something kooky like that together when we were just embryos.

We sat on the steps. I picked at an extraordinarily stubborn hangnail, doing my best to make eye contact with no one. Therefore I wasn't sure what exactly Edward was doing, but I guessed it had something to do with not making eye contact either.

"Excuse me! Ex_cuse_ me!" We both looked up ( along with the rest of the amassed people) to see Senora Vazquez waving her arms wildly. Actually, I didn't see the Senora, just her flailing hands over someone's head.

"If we could _please_ get started, that would be lovely! Mike and Jessica, you already know what you're supposed to do. Everyone else, backstage!"

I stood up and grabbed my case. "Well." I cleared my throat and looked at Edward's throat. "Let's, uh…do this thing, then."

He smiled and offered me his arm. "Whatever you say, Bella."

AN: Ahh! There are packers everywhere! Ok. So I'll be computer-less until August probably. Sorry. I'll write in a notebook. BTW, anyone with an iPod…I plugged mine in to the computer and it doesn't work. Itunes won't open either. Any suggestions? I reinstalled iTunes already.


	17. Notice

This is not a chapter, so don't get your hopes up

This is not a chapter, so don't get your hopes up. BUT, it is an important notice/explanation/whine. I thought that as you are my loyal readers you deserve to know why the heck it's taking so gosh darned long for me to get out a freaking chapter already.

You may know that I moved to Germany. I came from one of the top schools in the nation (back in the US, that is). Now I'm going to a military school. No, not, like, a military school, but a DoDDS school where people with parents in the military go.

It's kind of a scary school. Pretty much the ghetto, actually. Last year there were…a series of rapes at Prom or something (I was wondering why there were so many pregnant girls…so I asked someone). Anyway, the education isn't the best either.

I was looking for a boarding school in Europe that is not a ridiculous sum of money. Most are about 8 or 9000 Euro a year. Well, goodbye college education. That's almost 15000 a year. Ridiculous.

Soooo, I turned to homeschooling. I should be starting soon. I would be extremely interested if any of you are/were homeschooled, if you have any advice, etc.

If you have an LJ, my username is 'parsafal', look me up.

But I WILL make a conscious effort to finalllllly finish the next chapter. I'm sorry. : please have mercy.

-respektor


	18. The Fete

I stifled a yawn

I stifled a yawn.

"A volunteer from the audience? Anyone, anyone?"

We had, approximately 1 hour and 43 minutes ago, decided that there were simply too many participants to be kept backstage, and as a result were all lolling about on the floor in front of the stage.

Eric Yorkie was performing his infamous card tricks, thus the yawning on my part. The harsh light (our tech crew wasn't very good) wreaked havoc on his skin and greasy hair, and I had a feeling no one was really paying attention to his cards.

"Oh, Jessica, thanks for volunteering." Eric waved her over from the wings, and judging by the expression on her face, I didn't think she had volunteered.

"Pick a card," Eric crowed, "any card. Oh, the first card? All right then." He closed his eyes and shuffled the cards around. I didn't even try to stifle the next yawn.

He smiled and looked at Jessica. "You have a 3 of spades." She looked at her card.

"No, I don't."

"What? You have to! Let me see, you're lying!" A scuffle broke out on the stage, and soon the voices were raised to a pitch that even dogs would have a hard time hearing.

"Stop yawning; it's contagious." Edward whispered in my ear.

"Well, if it is contagious, you could be catching it from _any_one, not just me." I realized how true this statement was as I looked around. Turning back to Edward I caught him at the tail end of a yawn.

"Someone should break that up," he said, nodding towards the ongoing kerfuffle on stage, 'regardless of the comedic relief it brings to us poor performers."

"_If_ we ever get-"

"Bella! Edward!" Shouted Sen. Vazquez, "I believe it is high time you two got up here and serenaded the rest of us. And _you_," she jabbed a finger in a tousle haired Eric's direction as we scrambled to our feet, "work on your magic tricks."

A battered piano was wheeled onto the stage. Edward plunked a key and shot the instrument a dismal look. I was no piano savant, but even I could tell it was a tad out of tune.

He met my gaze and shrugged. I shrugged back. At the risk of sounding vain, let me say that I doubted anyone in the audience would have any musical talent anyway.

We inhaled together, and then started playing the Vivaldi. For those short minutes we were in our own world. It was just us in the fishbowl, sweating under the hot lights, entirely caught up in what we were doing.

And then it was done. There was a smattering of applause (mainly from Jess) but most of our peers were as ignorant as I had assumed (or maybe we were just not as good as I thought?) and were engrossed in their own conversations.

"Thank you, Bella…and Edward, for that beautiful interpretation of…Vyevaldi?" Mike struggled to decipher his writing from an index card. "Er…it was truly great. Especially you, Bella."

I blushed and hurried offstage, not willing to display my flaming cheeks to my peers. I knew Mike liked me; I had known it since seventh grade. Did he have to be so horrifyingly embarrassing?

I pulled my case onto my back, tightening the carrying straps. A hand caught my arm. "Bella? Do you want to go grab some lunch? I think we can sneak out without Senora Vazquez noticing." He smiled wryly.

"Uh, no. Sorry, I've still got to do that DBQ for APUSH." It was a blatant lie, and I'm sure he saw through me as clearly as if I was glass. He raised a brow and smiled again, somewhat less certainly.

"Okay, well, maybe next time."

"Yeah," my eyes darted back and forth, seeking escape, "maybe next time."

Another lie. I couldn't trust myself to be alone with Edward Cullen anymore than I could trust myself in a room full of Tollhouse cookie dough.

The problem was that I knew exactly what would happen if I went to eat with him. He would obviously try to engage me in conversation. I would be too busy ogling at him to respond and he would wonder why he had asked me. Surely, he would think, simple courtesy doesn't extend this far?

He would then proceed to get rid of me in the most tender, gentlemanlike manner imaginable.

No, I would stay with my daydreams; they were a much better companion, though too lewd to mention. They usually consist of Edward in various states of undress.

Oh, God, I met his eyes through the windshield and blushed what I am sure was a color any self respecting tomato would be jealous of.

I spent the entirety of my drive home wishing myself into a dark hole.

AN: Whew. Sorry, I mean, only three months overdue.


End file.
